


Pyromancer

by sextustarquinius



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, pyromancer!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 00:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12642858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sextustarquinius/pseuds/sextustarquinius
Summary: Pyromancy is an ancient art of guessing though fire, ashes and burned objects.But no one could be able to guess how many terrible things were about to happen when Stiles came back in town.





	Pyromancer

Beacon Hills has been pretty quiet about six months now – the time Stiles has been out of town. Derek would never admit it, but he’s missing his very gangling presence, his nonstop talking, his lips – the ones he kissed that time. God damn that day, which’s been hunting Derek since then. It’s giving him nightmares, literally. Kissing Stiles and the memory of the fire in his house. He haven’t slept well about a week, always waking up in the middle of night sweating a lot, heart pounding and then he stays up until dawn.

Something big is coming around, it seems. Things were too good to be true.

Derek started thinking that Lydia could appear around and shout, a signal that he’s about to die. If that’s it, so be it, fast, better than a slow and agonizing torture. And seems Lydia’s not the only one who can foretell, ‘cause he just received a text. It’s from Scott: “ur crush’s back in town ;)”. Derek rolled his eyes and sighed. He asked: “who?”, and after a few minutes came the answer: “Stiles, man”. Oh. “we doin a welcomin party for him u comin?”.

Derek frowned. Even though Derek felt flattered, he couldn’t help raising his eyebrows in surprise. He and Stiles always had a awkward and adversarial relationship, so being present in his welcoming party would be something – at least – weird. So Derek enquired it to Scott. “Man he never disliked u on the contrary he like u a lot always talking bout u”. Derek’s rational side tried to play surprise, but he blocked a yell deep down in his throat. He gave in, after all: “ok”, he replied.

When night fell, Derek went to bed already aware he wasn’t going to get some rest. Again he dreamt with the image of the fire, flames consuming everything around him, there was nowhere he looked at that wasn’t red, orange or yellow. The heat and the smoke didn’t let him breathe. He, as a kid, could not move, frozen by fear and despair. He could feel tears but not his, and at the distance, someone calling for help. Again, he woke up sweating a lot, hot body and choking. He sat up in the bed and stared at nothing for a few seconds, trying to chill; then, he stood up quickly, dressed up and went as fast as he could to his burned house.

Derek left his car behind at the wood’s entrance and made the rest of his way by walking. The regular townspeople have no guts to walk in the woods – even during the daylight, much less at night. When he approached the house, he felt his chest getting tighter as his eyes widened at the sight of the front door open. He ran to the house and entered breathless. He looked around and no one at sight, but when he entered the living room, a pale figure standing in the middle of the room astonished him. The moonlight was making the white skin glow. Stiles’ eyes found Derek, so he said:

— Oh, hi — his voice echoed through the room, breaking the silence of the night. And it’s funny, ‘cause the boy’s voice opposes the fear that arised in Derek’s body due the scare.

Derek frowned.

— Stiles? — after saying the boy’s name, Derek just babbled, but couldn’t say a word.

— Stiles? Yeah, that’s me — he laughed, and Derek shutted up.

— What you doing here? — he spoke like he was choking with water, like someone drowning and screaming for help.

— Oh — Stiles looked around like he was suddenly realizing he was there. —, well, it’s a long story.

Derek crossed his arms as he got closer.

— No problem. I have time. — Stiles nodded and sighed.

— Ok… So, basically, I’m a pyromancer. — Stiles spoke slowly. Derek raised his eyebrows, like when Stiles said “it’s the internet”.

Noticing Derek’s confusion, Stiles  kept talking.

— When I was on my internship, I started to feel a little feverish every night. Every single night I couldn’t sleep ‘cause my body was boiling. So, one day I got used to it, but my body was still getting very hot. People got burned just touching me…

— Stiles! — Derek shouted. — Get straight to the point.

— All right, sourwolf — Stiles raised his hands in the air. Damn it, Derek, why you like so much when he calls you that?  You wasn’t suppose to do. — I better show you.

None of that is making any sense, and Derek was starting to get annoyed. At Stiles’ feet there were two clapboards, and he crouched to grab one. He turned to Derek, raised a finger and, moving it slightly, he released a little fire spark which started burning the wood.

— Impressed? — the boy asked. — Now look at this.

Stiles threw up the clapboard above his head and, swinging fast his left hand, he released a dark purple glow that covered the wood. When the board reached his torso’s high, Stiles swung quickly his both hands once more, creating a fire ball which hit the wood and burned it down entirely right away. The ashes just dispersed in the air.

— Pretty cool, right? It’s not only pyrokinesis, I can even create an aura that makes the fire stronger. I call it “dark shroud” — even though Derek was really impressed, he didn’t demonstrated.

— Still didn’t explain why you’re here.

— Well, as I said, I’m a pyromancer. Besides that others powers I showed you, I can… see things or read things, I’m not quite sure, in the fire, ashes and burned things.

Derek trembled, he couldn’t hide his perplexed expression.

— I returned to town a few days earlier than I thought, so basically no one knows I’m here — Stiles rubbed his hands as he approached Derek. — And ever since I arrived, I’m feeling… breathless. You know, unwell. I couldn’t fall asleep, so I thought: “hey, there’s a burned house around here, maybe I can get some answers there”. So, here I stand. How ‘bout you?

— Me?

— Yeah, you, Mr. Hale. — he pointed a finger to Derek’s chest. — What you’re doing here so late at night?

— Uhm… I… — Stiles smirked seeing Derek choking in his own words.

— Let me guess — Stiles interrupted him, signalizing ‘stop’ with his hand. — You’ve been having some trouble sleeping? You’ve been having nightmares with this house and the fire?

Derek just stared at Stiles and blinked a few times, stunned and speechless. After a deep breath, he closed his eyes and asked:

— How do you know it?

— I told you, Derek: I’m a pyromancer. I saw, or read, I don’t know, in this house. Just think about it: this whole house was burned down, how could the whole structure not ruin to the ground?

Derek stayed in silence.

— Because of you. You were born in this house — Derek choked again, ‘cause he never told anyone that he was born there —, so you created a bond with this place. If you had died in that fire, the house would no longer exist.

Derek swallowed hard and then asked:

— And how could you…?

— How? Dude, it’s Beacon Hills. We have werewolves, banshees and whatever you can guess.

Derek’s eyes chased the ground as he placed a thumb in his lower lip. Speechless. Too much information at once. His blood was getting colder, his hands were shaking, his mouth went dry. He couldn’t understand entirely what was going on there. Even Stiles’ presence was a big novelty, and he came back with powers – pyro whatever – and he’s been snooping around.

— So — Stiles broke the silence —, you must be wondering about your nightmares and your insomnia. Well, it’s the house, it’s trying to talk to you.

Silence again.

— Derek?

— What?! — he shouted. Stiles flinched. That was the first time Stiles saw Derek so mad. He was bothered by the fact that he was facing something totally unknown and involved with his past. His Achilles’ heel.

— Hey — Stiles got closer and placed his hands on Derek’s shoulders, trying to make him relax — I just wanna help, okay? I know it’s very hard for you to talk about these things, so I’ll just leave if you want me to.

Derek took a few seconds to answer.

— No, uhm, I appreciate you help. I’m really sorry.

— Own, come here, big wolfie — Stiles hugged Derek. It felt incredibly good, made half of the problems go away. Then Stiles hummed:

— I missed you — and he tightened his hug.

— So did I.

— You’ve been thinking about our kiss?

— The house told you this too?

— Not actually. It’s ‘cause I have.

Derek pulled Stiles away and looked him in the eyes, before he kissed him again. What a relief. These past few days have been so stressful, and kissing that skinny fragile boy turned into his merkabah, took him to another reality. When they finished, Stiles opened his eyes – a move that Derek saw in slow motion, ‘cause it was magical, it was huge.

— So… uhm… — Derek said. — We should better get going.

— Yeah, we sure do.

— So what are your plans?

— Tomorrow I’m going to search on the Bestiary if there’s something about pyromancy. Or talk with Deaton may work too. About your dreams, I really have no idea what it might be. But we’ll figure it out, I promise.

— It’s okay by now — Derek noticed he didn’t take his hands off Stiles. — You wanna stay the night at my place?

Stiles stared at Derek, a smirk in his lips.

— Of course I do.

**

The next night was a déjà vu. Stiles just found himself in somewhere he didn’t know how he got there. It was the burned house. He was standing in the same place he was on the last night. A white moonlight was reflecting in his skin, a mild touch all over his body by the cold air. He was wearing only his pajamas pants, because Derek’s body is very warm, so things can get hot when they cuddle.

— It was you who…? — Stiles whispered to the house.

— No — a familiar voice spoke from behind him, a voice that always gave him chills. — It was me.

Stiles turned around quickly, his arms couldn’t keep up with his body.

— Peter?

— Yeah, little red Stiles — Peter approached slowly, each step emanating security as fuck. Stiles swallowed hard.

— Wha- what do you want from me? — Stiles whispered, already trembling.

— Ah, there’s something: your virginity — he stood before Stiles, looking in his eyes. Stiles flinched.

Peter kept going.

— Don’t take it personally — he caressed the boy’s ivory face. — You know, I love my nephew, but _I_ should be the Alpha. And, how convenient, he found himself a mate.

Stiles frowned. Peter’s sadistic smile scared the shit out of him.

— A mate? — Peter nodded. — But how do my virginity gets in the middle of this?

A flash. In the blink of an eye, Stiles was carried away to the other side of the room and pressed against the wall. The cold wasn’t nice anymore just as the pressure made by the werewolf’s muscles, holding his both hands above his head. Peter shifted, ‘cause Stiles felt his fangs pressing slightly against his nape.

— Why are you doing this to me? — Stiles asked as he started to cry.

— Oh — Peter rolled his eyes. — I’ll draw this to you: some ancient myths say that when an Alpha finds his or her soulmate, a bond is created between them right away. Sadly, a very fragile bond.

Peter laughed loudly and kept talking:

— Setting aside the lyricism, a mate inside a pack is the only position that can be filled by a non-wolf. It’s like a first lady for a president — Stiles felt Peter’s boner against his ass, what made his hands get cold.

— Please… — the young man could barely beg, ‘cause his cry was tightening his throat.

— Ah, don’t worry, little boy. If you relax, you can enjoy it.

Peter pulled Stiles’ pants down and caressed his round ass. Then, the werewolf placed Stiles’ hands on his back, so he could get down on his knees and rim the younger boy. Stiles let another tear fall down as he felt a wet and strange tongue getting inside of him.

Peter didn’t take so long there; he stood up after a few moments and unzipped his pants, taking out his boner. He spited on the tip of his cock and got it inside Stiles’ fresh flash. The boy screamed, but Peter placed a hand in his mouth, shutting any noise the younger man could do. The werewolf approached his lips to Stiles’ ear and whispered:

— I just need to leave my seed in you, mark the territory, and then we’re done.

He started moving fast, enjoying the pleasure he was stealing, ignoring the blood that was appearing in his cock as he thrust hard. At some point, Stiles stopped trying to scream, his resistance was useless. He just cried and prayed for all of that to end as soon as possible. His body was stunned with the pain as Peter’s was stunned with the pleasure – it’s been a long time since Peter’s last fuck.

That pale skin seemed so tasty, Peter couldn’t help biting and licking Stiles’ shoulders, leaving hickeys all over him.

— Oh, I’m coming — Peter’s moans came faster out of his mouth, and he stopped thrusting when he came inside of Stiles, filling him with his thick and hot load.

The werewolf got his cock out of Stiles and stepped backward to clean himself up. Then, he turned around and left, as Stiles slowly slipped to the cold dirty ground, where he laid down, feeling his head spinning.

— Derek — he whispered nearly voicelessly, before he passed out.

**

Derek hopped out of bed when his eyes opened and did not see Stiles. He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, blinked a few times and verified that Stiles was actually not there. The burned house, he thought. Derek broke the old door, hot blooded, when he could just use a little more strength to open it. He looked around bewildered and, when he saw Stiles unconscious, he just ran to him and picked him from the ground.

— Derek — Stiles opened his eyes slowly (it wasn’t magical anymore, it was heavy and painful), a string of dry drool in the corner of his mouth. Stiles smiled while shutting his eyes. — Thank God. Peter, he…

— Shhh, don’t speak now, I’ll take you to the hospital.

— No, Derek, don’t…

— Stiles, you’re hurt, my love, you need a doctor — Derek kissed his mate’s wet forehead.

Stiles was too weak and dizzy to keep talking, but the house was yelling at him that something terrible would happen if they got out of there. The injured boy felt his soul slips away when he eyes closed again, like he was… broken. Like a hand violently pulled a part of him off and left him there to bleed to death. Something was boiling inside of him.

He woke up in a hospital bed, with hospital clothe. His head was still spinning, but better than before. A strange feeling still hovering over him. Derek entered the room carefully, but then, as he noticed Stiles was awake, he smiled and said:

— Hey, feeling better?

— Yeah — Stiles’ eyes followed Derek as he came closer and bend himself over to leave a kiss in his forehead. Then, he got down in his knees and held Stiles’ hand.

— You remember what happened? — Stiles nodded.

— It was Peter. He got into my head, like he did with Lydia a while ago, to lead me to the house. And he… — Stiles throat tightened again. He felt his eyes getting teary. — He raped me — his voice was shaking, like he already was.

Derek tightened his grip.

— He was talking some mate stuff — Stiles kept speaking — and the fact that you should not be the Alpha.

— What? — Derek shook.

— He said he needed to leave his seed in me — Derek’s eyes widened.

— Stiles, I wanna see something, can you turn around? — Stiles raised his eyebrows and then nodded, turning his back to Derek, who opened the hospital clothe to reach Stiles’s pale skin.

It was as Derek feared: a draw were tattoed in his back, black thick lines forming a slant triangle. It was Peter’s mark, Stiles was now his mate. And Derek was no longer the Alpha. He felt devastated, covering his mouth with his hand, trying to not cry. But in vain.

— Derek, what is it? Oh, dear, don’t… I didn’t get what he meant, but I know he used me to hurt you — they both were in tears, nearly drowning in them. — Don’t let him get what he wants. Head up.

Derek contemplated Stiles for a few seconds. Long time ago, Derek heard a myth from South American indigenous that were about two lovers from rival tribes, who, before an impossible love, decided to run away to live together. However, her father found out their planes and asked to a sorcerer to turn them both into giant stones (that are a couple of local mountains), fated to stare at each other forever without being able to touch each other. There they were now.

— You’re right, there’s still time — Derek stood up. — I gotta go now, gotta fix this — he kissed Stiles, in the lips this time.

— Derek, don’t… Derek, don’t do anything stupid — Derek passed through the door, leaving Stiles’ screams behind. However, Peter was already standing in front of the room’s door and quickly grabbed Derek to launch him to the other side of the corridor. Stiles stepped out of the room and gasped as Peter grabbed him by the hand.

Violently, Peter turned the younger man around and pressed him against the wall. No, not again. Peter didn’t have to open Stiles clothe, ‘cause it already was. He smiled at the sight of his mark.

— Well — Peter whispered in the boy’s ear —, the first part of the plan is done, my little mate. You’re mine now. There’s just one more thing…

Derek was helplessly crawling and showed his fangs and glowing eyes when his uncle stepped closer. Peter just laughed.

— How cute, my little Beta — Peter crouched and squeezed Derek’s cheeks. — Suck my cock — he gave a short laugh. — Let’s see if you can do better than your _former_ mate — he pointed at Stiles, who was sitting on the floor and crying.

In a sudden rage, Derek tackled against Peter, making the two of them roll on the floor. Peter just laughed as Derek sit upon him and punched his face repeatedly. After a few punches, Peter held Derek’s fist and tossed him  again. He rolled on the floor and stopped next to Stiles, who reached him.

— Derek… — Stiles started to whisper something in his ear.

— Not bad for a Beta, but still pathetic — Pater said as he stood up and walked up to them.

Both Derek and Stiles started running, while Peter just rolled his eyes.

— There’s no running away from me, boys. I’ll find you sooner or later.

As Peter went after them, the lights turned off. Ha, typical. It wasn’t enough, however. Peter could feel the Alpha powers flowing through his body, so he had night and thermal vision, besides his olfaction. Peter stopped in front of a door and saw Stiles inside of the room, vainly trying to hide. Derek scent was around, so predictable. Peter entered the room.

— Already took your clothes off? Your body is really a piece of art, Stiles, you know that — Peter grabbed Stiles’ wrists and, while pressing him against the wall, raised them above Stilinski’s head. — So what you two got for me?

— Oh, you gonna love this — with an abrupt move and an atypical strength, Stiles bumped Peter, who suddenly felt a cool feeling all over his body. The light turned on, and the older Hale could see a dark purple aura stuck to his whole body.

He turned around and saw Derek blocking the door. His expression was angry, his typical sourwolf face. In his hand a molotov cocktail, the wick was already fired. He threw it at his uncle. Both Peter and Stiles screamed loudly at the same time, as the flames consumed Peter’s body entirely right away, ‘till just a glowing skeleton is left.

The skeleton and Stiles fell to the ground, as the boy fainted again.

**

— You want to break your neck? — Derek said, sitting up on the bed.

— I just wanted to appreciate it. It’s absolutely unfair that I can’t decide where my tattoo is.

— Well, I think it’s perfect where it is.

— But it’s pointless a tattoo that I cannot see.

Derek stood up, approached Stiles and held the boy’s face between his hands.

— I can’t see mine either. But I don’t have it ‘cause I want to see it, it’s my mark as an Alpha. So that’s your mark as _my_ mate.

Stiles smiled. Such a precious smile. His lips opened to a smile in slow motion, it was graceful, it was lightened. Stiles grabbed Derek’s right hand and kissed it. Just two weeks have passed since they had to finish Peter’s life.

— You know — the boy said —, a rape doesn’t count as a first time.

— Stiles…

— It’s ok, Derek. I have to face it, so I can get over it. You’ve been making it much easier. Thank you, babe.

— Just doing my best for you — they kissed. Fuck, still hits Derek like a wave.

Stiles hand slid down ‘till it reached Derek dick. Derek broke the kiss right away.

— It’s okay, it’s okay. My branches are heavy — where did Derek hear that? — There’s just one more thing.

Stiles reached his phone and played a song. _Whispered something in your ear, it was a prevented thing to say_.

— Okay, now you can come — Stiles threw his hands in the air and smiled like a…

Oh, damn.


End file.
